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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914872">Muse to My Art</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jetainia'>Jetainia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blanket Permission, Fluff, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Quest: King's Gambit (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:20:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jetainia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt accepts the title of Giantslayer, Dandelion is not impressed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Muse to My Art</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt could practically feel the tiredness of the past few weeks fall off him as he passed through the lines to enter Novigrad. He’d been in and out of the city enough—and was famous enough—that the guards knew he had a pass and waved him through easily without asking for him to show the piece of parchment. He gave a brief thought to where he’d even find the pass if a guard asked for it and realised that it was probably a sodden mess in one of his pockets or disintegrating in the ocean; he was immensely grateful he didn’t need to show it.</p>
<p>He’d entered via the Gate of the Hierarch and smiled when he saw the familiar sight of Chameleon greeting him. It was good to be back. Kaer Morhen would always be his home for the winter, but Chameleon had steadily become his home when he was in the Novigrad area. After running all over Skellige helping an Craite’s children and then an Craite himself, he was exhausted. Cerys had waved him off with a cheeky smile and a command to wish Yennefer well—that girl, honestly, she read far too much into his and Yen’s friendship. She would make a good queen though, Geralt thought as he nodded in greeting to some of the patrons sitting outside Chameleon.</p>
<p>Hjalmar had apparently gone tearing after the Vildkaarl after seeing them transform into the bears that had massacred the applicants for Skellige’s crown and nearly gotten himself killed. He’d uncovered another part of the plot, true, but as Geralt had known when he’d decided to work with Cerys, it was always better to get a good idea of the situation before diving in headfirst. He’d made the mistake once of assuming a village just had a deadlier than usual drowner problem only to discover they in fact had an infestation of water hags—he’d escaped through the skin of his teeth and returned the next day far more prepared.</p>
<p>The door to Chameleon was open and inviting him in and he happily accepted the invitation. The room was cosy and warm—theatrical, apparently, though Geralt still didn’t quite know what that meant. Dandelion was chatting with Polly, clearly discussing a new number, and Geralt felt his heart fill at the sight. He’d never have thought that this was where Dandelion would thrive, but here he was. He came out with Geralt sometimes when there were contracts nearby, but mostly he stayed at the Chameleon creating joy and art.</p>
<p>He slipped into an empty seat nearby, quite content to just sit and relax in the only tavern he knew he wouldn’t be kicked out of no matter what. Zoltan walked up with a full plate of food and a mug full of ale and deposited them in front of Geralt, slapping him on the back in greeting.</p>
<p>“Welcome back, Geralt! Good to see you in one piece.” Geralt huffed a laugh as Zoltan chuckled. Zoltan glanced at Dandelion before leaning into Geralt to whisper conspiratorially, “Enjoy it while it lasts, Wolf. Apparently he’s going to tear you to shreds. Put you back together afterwards, of course, but he’s very focused on the tearing to shreds bit.”</p>
<p>With that comforting news, Zoltan moved off to ensure one of the male patrons knew how to properly respect the dancers. Chameleon may have started as a brothel but those days were no more after Dandelion inherited it. Geralt had a feeling he knew why Dandelion was displeased and snorted at how petty his lover could be. He tucked into his meal without worrying (it would be far easier to eat without a pouting bard draped over him complaining about how heartless he was or whatever Dandelion came up with).</p>
<p>He only managed half of his meal before Dandelion wrapped up his conversation with Polly and noticed him sitting in the corner. The bard’s eyes immediately lit up and he made a beeline to Geralt, flopping himself down in the Witcher’s lap—Geralt having moved away from the table slightly in preparation for this move.</p>
<p>“Geralt, my love, my beloved, my darling, light of my life, sun to my moon, rosemary to my thyme”—Geralt couldn’t hold back a snort at that, it had been years since Chameleon had been called Rosemary and Thyme—“my dearest Witcher, my Wolf, the blue in my sky, spark of my soul, strings to my lute, melody to my harmony—”</p>
<p>“Are you done?” Geralt interrupted.</p>
<p>Dandelion pouted and said, “My husband,” before kissing Geralt softly. Geralt closed his eyes and kissed him back, so very happy to be back here with Dandelion in his lap. Dandelion pulled back and placed his hands on Geralt’s shoulders firmly, staring in Geralt’s eyes. “What precisely,” he asked in a stern tone,” do you think you’re doing letting someone else create tales of your glory?”</p>
<p>Geralt rose an eyebrow and went to speak but Dandelion stopped him with a hand over his mouth. “No, I will not accept any excuses. Our contract is very clear. <em>I</em> am your barker and <em>I </em>craft wonderous songs of your heroic deeds that the masses then carry all over the Continent. That is <em>my </em>privilege. And what have you done? You’ve allowed a Skellige boy make you into a folk hero by giving you the title of Giantslayer.</p>
<p>“I have no doubt that you did, indeed, slay a giant, and I have no doubt it was glorious, that’s not the point. The <em>point,</em> owner of my heart, is that I have first claim to you and your monikers not some Skellige royal who isn’t even interested in the arts! Explain yourself.”</p>
<p>Despite demanding he explain, Dandelion did not remove the hand still covering Geralt’s mouth and continued glaring sternly at the Witcher. Geralt huffed and shifted his grip on Dandelion’s waist so the bard wouldn’t fall off his lap and gently pulled the hand away from his lips—though not without kissing the palm and being rewarded by Dandelion visibly trying not to melt into him.</p>
<p>“Would you rather Hjalmar got all the credit?” Geralt asked dryly. “I was of the impression you wanted me to accept credit when it was given to me and demand it when it wasn’t. Something about making sure my heroic tales would still be told even if you’re not by my side to tell them.”</p>
<p>Dandelion opened his mouth to refute the words and then closed it again. He had said that; he had, in fact, spent many days and nights convincing, cajoling, pouting, and complaining until Geralt finally gave in.</p>
<p>“You’re not allowed to turn my own words against me,” he said finally.</p>
<p>Geralt grinned. “But they’re such good words, crafted by a master of the seven arts.”</p>
<p>“Well, when you put it like that,” Dandelion said, snuggling into Geralt now that he’d said his piece and made his unhappiness known—for now, at least.</p>
<p>“They made a song too,” Geralt said, unable to help himself. “Hjalmar and Vigi decided it was imperative on the way back to Kaer Trolde.”</p>
<p>“I will hit you, don’t think I won’t.”</p>
<p>Geralt laughed; he had missed having Dandelion with him. He shifted the bard so that Dandelion could still sit on his lap while allowing Geralt access to the table and his meal. Zoltan threw him a thumbs up when he saw Geralt calmly eating with Dandelion curled up on his lap, head resting on Geralt’s shoulder.</p>
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